Dad?
by Inscribson
Summary: Snape has to teach a child that knows who he is-even though he doesn't. Shall fatherhood make him a little less...Snapeish...towards a daughter?
1. Potions, First Years, and Songs

I don't own any of the original characters. I do, however, own the typos, Henry, Inscribson, and any other children coming from the weird pairs I've cooked up.

And, I was told if I didn't keep writing this, my life would be forfeit.

Oh, and I update all of the time, only mostly not new chapters, but changes in the story. So every time I let out a new chapter, it may be a good idea to re-read the story.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Inscribson

* * *

-Sev's thoughts-

/Henry's thoughts/

(Inscribson's thoughts)

-0.o- Severus' P.o.V. (Point of View) -o.0-

"Very good Ms. Granger, Mr. Longbottom. Ten points to Slytherin for your work."

- That must have been the most improbable combination of words since that damn Potter boy first spoke. -

Severus Snape glanced down at Inscribson Granger and Henry Longbottom's cauldron; glare replaced by a small warming of the eyes at the pair's work. That slight softening was soon replaced with a bitter look.

- I wonder if anyone remembers it's my birthday... -

The Potions Master walked back to the front of the class, stalking forcefully.

-It's not such a big deal anymore, though. Albus has never forgotten, anyways.-

"As I have seen only very minor errors today in class, there will be a foot long essay on the potion-brewer of your choice, instead of a three-and-a-half foot report on the properties of dragon's blood in potion making." As the professor sat down, he heard the sweet sound of potions bubbling.

The first-years were all quieter than a goblin being praised for usury.

Until a small voice started from the Slytherin half of the room.

"Happy birthday to you..."

- What the-? -

"Happy birthday to you..."

Quickly catching on, the rest of the Slytherins began to sing along.

"Happy birthday dear Professor..."

-Did I just hear a 'Daddy'? -

"Happy birthday to you..."

- Even the worthless Gryffindors sang! -

This was getting a little strange for Severus. Clearing his throat, he merely said, "Who started that?" The classroom was deathly silent as Inscribson Granger raised her hand. He nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Granger. Another ten points to Slytherin and one point for everyone in the class for following her lead."

- You're getting soft, you old git! -

* * *

-0.o- Henry's P.o.V. -o.0-

Henry Longbottom finished cutting the lacewings for the day's potion—something to do with shrinking, he thought. It didn't matter, though, because he got to work with a girl who loved potions as much as he loved them, and was skilled at it, too.

/Perhaps we can talk later in the common room./

Henry was in the same house as the girl, Slytherin. They had met at breakfast, trying to read their schedules while gobbling down toast and pumpkin juice. That was when he had proposed to be Potions partners.

/But what's her name? Dad, I'll never forgive you for passing your memory to me.../

But his thoughts were interrupted by a small sound to his left. The girl was singing-

"Happy Birthday to you..."

/It's Snape's birthday? Spleen and lacewing!/

Quickly, not to let a classmate down, he joined in...

"Happy Birthday to you..."

/Maybe we'll get house points for this.../

Then the class got the hint...

"Happy Birthday dear Professor..."

/What did she say? It's too noisy in here now, but I know it wasn't' 'Professor'.../

"Happy Birthday to you."

Henry looked studiously down at his cutting board, listening to the low tones of their Head of House's voice. All hopes for House points left his mind.

/She's in for it now. I can't watch./

"Who started that?"

The girl beside Henry raised her hand.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger. Another ten points to Slytherin and one point for everyone in the class for following her lead."

/Spleen and lacewing, she's not in trouble!/

* * *

-0.o- Inscribson's P.o.V. -o.0-

Inscribson Granger, with a smug look that only fit a Slytherin, was staring at the floating animals in jars all around Professor Snape's classroom. She couldn't help but give a small, happy sigh.

Someday I'll be a Potions Master. Or a Potions Mistress. Whatever you say...)

She looked over at Henry Longbottom, whom she had just met that morning at their House's table during breakfast. As she knew no one else, and this was the first class of the first day of school, they had agreed to be Potions partners. And she was glad they had, since the other first-year was just as reverent about the boiling contents of their cauldron as she was. Not to mention he was extremely competent when dealing with the ingredients.

(And his dad was hopeless with potions?)

Maybe it wasn't a family thing, though Inscribson's mom, Hermione, had also been very good. From her earliest memory, Hermione and all of Inscribson's aunts and uncles had been teaching Inscribson everything they could about the magical world. And Inscribson was grateful, now that she was at Hogwarts. She looked back up at the current Potions Master. From where Henry's cauldron stood, she could see a side view of Snape.

With a silent gasp, her eyes widened.

(No way! It can't be him...can it? But his eyes...and the hair...like me...like Mom's pictures!)

It was her father. Severus Snape, most feared, greasy, hated professor at Hogwarts, was her _father_.

With a start, she realized it was his birthday. Hermione had always told Inscribson how her dad was always mad on the 2nd of September because he had to be at the school and no one ever said a kind word to him on his birthday. But Inscribson had thought Mom was talking about when they were students. She didn't know her dad was a teacher in the generation before her mother! Her first thought—

(Ewww...)

Her second –

(He probably hasn't had anyone sing him 'Happy Birthday' for a long time...)

And so...

Inscribson started softly, afraid of what the other students would do...

"Happy birthday to you..."

Her dad's eyes went wide as a size seven cauldron...

"Happy birthday to you..."

Now Henry and the rest of the Slytherins were joining in...

"Happy birthday dear Daddy..."

The last word she whispered...

"Happy birthday to you."

(I love you, Dad, even if you're a crabby git.)

The mean old Potions Professor looked moved, and then said...

"Who started that?"

Timidly, Inscribson raised her hand, waiting for her ten points to be taken from Slytherin. Instead, he nodded to her.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger. Another ten points to Slytherin and one point for everyone in the class for following her lead."

(I wonder if he even knows who I am.)

* * *

Can you see that little button? It means that I won't write anymore until you review. Kewpies for giving me new plot ideas, and for editing. If you find errors of any sort in here, _tell me_! Then we can work out a plan, and I can fix the plotholes. 


	2. Angles

I don't own any of the original characters. I do, however, own the typos, Henry, Inscribson, and any other children coming from the weird pairs I've cooked up.

And, I was told if I didn't keep writing this, my life would be forfeit.

Oh, and I update all of the time, only mostly not new chapters, but changes in the story. So every time I let out a new chapter, it may be a good idea to re-read the story.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Inscribson

* * *

-Sev's thoughts-

/Henry's thoughts/

(Inscribson's thoughts)

* * *

-0.o- Henry's P.o.V. -o.0-

Henry Longbottom looked at Inscribson from across their House table, wincing as a Hufflepuff girl—Malfoy, or something—laughed shrilly.

/She could think about other people's ears./

The Great Hall _was_ rather loud, as it was the end of the first day of school. Henry himself felt like talking as fast as he could, trying to remember everything that had happened that day. His main memory was Inscribson getting the class to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Snape.

/Snape! Of all people, why...how did she know it was his birthday?/

Their Potions Master had been snapping at anyone for anything the rest of the day, already taking a combined of 96 points from the other three houses in one day. That seemed to relieve the second-years on up, because they had heard rumors about Snape's reaction to his first class with the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

/Some of the rumors are more believable./

Henry had been trying to talk to Inscribson all day, but her mind seemed elsewhere, even when Professor Black had turned into a Grim! Henry had to help Inscribson in all of their classes, which didn't feel right.

/Especially if her mom is who my dad told me.../

Henry's dad, Neville, had always been abysmal at Hogwarts, never any better than average in his classes, except Herbology. It seemed that Henry and his father had little in common, because Henry was almost as bad at Herbology as his dad was at Potions!

/I guess not all things are family things...I'd bet Inscribson's dad wasn't any good at Potions, either.../

He nudged Inscribson, pushing a plate of food over.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on, but as I'm your partner in every class, I'd like to know sooner than later."

She sighed.

"I just relearned something from a different angle, that's all."

/She 'relearned something from a different angle'? This doesn't sound good./

"You know Snape's been keeping an eye on you whenever you're half a Quidditch stadium away."

"Let off. Professor Snape is just making sure that all the first-year Slytherins are adjusting well."

Henry snorted at that.

/And I'm Harry Potter./

Inscribson didn't seem happy, cleaning the rest of her plate hurriedly, then gathered her bag, pulling out her wand.

"I'm going to the Library. Don't keep pestering me about this, or I'll jinx you. I mean it. I've been reading up on them, and my uncles taught me all I could learn already."

Inscribson leaned close, whispering before she stalked off.

"And I could learn a lot."

Henry and—unnoticed from across the hall—Snape watched her retreat.

Henry shook his head. Even if Snape watched out for his own, it just didn't make since from what Henry's dad told him.

/Snape is too soft!/

Sighing, the boy turned back to his dinner, hoping to finish it before it was time to go back to their House dormitory. Perhaps he'd understand later.

/But...aside from the same slightly sinister character...what does Inscribson have in common with our Head of House?/

* * *

-0.o- Severus' P.o.V. -o.0-

Severus worked his fork in his hand nervously, looking over at his House's table. He had been keeping a watch on that first-year girl, Ms. Granger, all day. The first class had made him a little jumpy, and he had been taking it out on every House (except his own, of course).

- I'm surprised Albus hasn't tried to talk to me about it yet. -

It felt strange to be teaching Hermione Granger's daughter, and even stranger that the younger Ms. Granger was in his own House—a Slytherin.

- She has her mother's potion-brewing skills and mind, if nothing else. -

For the young Ms. Granger looked nothing how Severus remembered her mother to be. Where Ms. Hermione Granger had bushy, brown hair, Ms. Inscribson Granger had straight, sleek black. Where Ms. Granger had chocolate brown eyes, Ms. Inscribson had a shade lighter than beetle-black. Ms. Granger always had slightly darker skin, while Ms. Inscribson was almost as white as the Bloody Barron. The parts of the Slytherin ghost that weren't stained with silver blood, of course.

- If I didn't know myself better, I'd say she looks a little like me. -

Severus watched even closer as the girl leaned in towards that Longbottom boy. Forsaking his dinner, Severus reached for his wand unconsciously before he even saw the girl's hand slip for hers. Somehow, he just _knew_ that she'd want to make a threat. It was what he would have done.

Severus didn't even know whose part he would take, as both were of his House. He sighed inaudibly as Ms. Granger stalked off. This was one strange first-year, even for his House.

- The girl is a Slytherin to the last....Well at least she likes Potions. -

* * *

-0.o- Inscribson's P.o.V. -o.0-

(Why does he have to know...why can't he know...why...why not?)

Inscribson stared at her plate, thinking about Professor Snape. Her dad. Should she tell him?

(I can't even decide if I should tell Henry or not!)

Henry was saying something to her, and she struggled to bring her mind to speed.

"—like to know sooner than later."

She sighed, deciding she'd not tell anyone just yet. It wouldn't be safe.

"I just relearned something from a different angle, that's all."

(A _really_ different angle.)

"You know Snape's been keeping an eye on you whenever you're half a Quidditch stadium away."

"Let off. Professor Snape is just making sure that all the first-year Slytherins are adjusting well."

(I wish, at least.)

Henry snorted, which made Inscribson mad for what felt like no reason at all. She bolted down her food, ready to go back to the Library, where she had come from to dinner. She easily understood why it was both her parent's favorite place. The sheer number of books, of all sorts of sorts. It was time to get back to that book on jinxes, in her opinion.

(Maybe I can get some quiet in there...)

"I'm going to the Library. Don't keep pestering me, or I'll jinx you. I mean it. I've been reading up on them, and my mum and uncles taught me all I could learn already."

She leaned in close, clutching her wand, not even remembering getting it out.

"And I could learn a lot."

She walked off forcefully, fully enjoying the feeling of her legs carrying her.

(A good book, that's all I need right now. Just like mom said, a book can get you anywhere, and you may find the perfect person in the process...)

She paused for a second, then swept through the door, her juvenile mind having been expanded enough for one day.

* * *

Can you see that little button? It means that I won't write anymore until you review. Kewpies for giving me new plot ideas, and for editing. If you find errors of any sort in here, _tell me_! Then we can work out a plan, and I can fix the plotholes. 


	3. Letters

I don't own any of the original characters. I do, however, own the typos, Henry, Inscribson, and any other children coming from the weird pairs I've cooked up.

And, I was told if I didn't keep writing this, my life would be forfeit.

Oh, and I update all of the time, only mostly not new chapters, but changes in the story. So every time I let out a new chapter, it may be a good idea to re-read the story.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Inscribson

* * *

Dear Mum,

Do you remember those few pictures we had of Dad? I always wondered why we didn't have that many, until I came to Hogwarts. Why didn't you tell me about Dad? He doesn't even know about us! I guess you may know that by now I'm in Slytherin. From his side of the family, right? He doesn't have any idea who I am.

But I want to stay off the topic of my father for a little bit. Did you know any Longbottoms when you went here? Because I've met one—Henry—who says that you used to help his dad in almost every subject. His dad was horrible at potions, but Henry's great at them. I'll have to research inborn magical ability.

On the note of researching, the library here is bigger than you described! I think I like the librarian here. She's been here for ages, and keeps trying to tell me stories of you—your 20 O.W.L.s, closest anyone's ever gotten to a perfect score, your 19 N.E.W.T.s, and all of your wonderful research done for the library. But the best thing is that she lets me get almost any books I want, even some from the Restricted section! But she always checks those books carefully to make sure I won't read the wrong ones. That doesn't matter to me, though. My goal is to read all of the books here (except for the Restricted section) before I graduate. Do you think I can do it?

Classes here are fun, especially with Uncles Remus and Sirius. The first day of Transfiguration, Uncle Sirius turned into a dog that looked surprisingly like a Grim, and in Defense, Uncle Remus told us a story about your fifth year—something to do with a curtained archway, a portkey, a safe house, and Sirius, I think. I'm doing well in all of my classes, but I have to help Henry (Longbottom) with Herbology. He's hopeless, although his father was supposed to be very good at it.

It's already about nine now, and I still have a bit more reading to do before I leave the Library for the dorms, so I'll end this here. I love you. Tell my godfather Hi for me – and that I miss his stories already, especially about Voldie and the Death Eaters!

Inscribson Ann Snape

* * *

Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,

As you already know, your daughter has been sorted into my House – Slytherin. While I doubt that you are delighted by this turn of events, I must ask you not to reprimand her...the Sorting Hat does as it sees fit, as we both know by the Resorting in your 6th year. Your daughter is settling in fairly well, but her peers seem not to be accepting her.

This will be a trying time for her and, as much as my reputation as an unfeeling crusty old man prevails, I will not have a member of my House scarred in any way. Your daughter is very gifted, from what I've seen and heard about her already. Those gifts need to be _cultivated_, not _shattered_.

That is why I am asking you to reserve judgment, and support your daughter as much as possible.  
  
Cordially,  
Professor Severus Snape, Slytherin Head of House, Order of Merlin, First Class

* * *

Dear Dad,

Please don't get mad at me! Honest, it wasn't my doing. The Sorting Hat didn't listen to my arguments, and put my in Slytherin. Said it was for my own good. I didn't have a choice at all!

Besides the fact that I'm in... a House different than we had hopped, I'm doing okay. After all, I'm still at Hogwarts, aren't I? I'm doing well in all of my classes, except Herbology. How you ever found that class interesting I'll never understand...But I met this nice first year called Inscribson Granger. Does that ring a bell? She says her mum was Hermione Granger, who went to school at the same time as you.

I have to go, as Inscribson's promised me a painful jinx if I annoy her again, and I really don't want to tempt her. I love you, Dad, and miss home. Say Hi to Mum, and tell her that I'm sorry the Weasley side of me didn't get into Gryffindor.

Henry

* * *

Can you see that little button? It means that I won't write anymore until you review. Kewpies for giving me new plot ideas, and for editing. If you find errors of any sort in here, _tell me_! Then we can work out a plan, and I can fix the plotholes.


	4. Nevermore

I don't own any of the original characters. I do, however, own the typos, Henry, Inscribson, and any other children coming from the weird pairs I've cooked up.

And, I was told if I didn't keep writing this, my life would be forfeit.

Oh, and I update all of the time, only mostly not new chapters, but changes in the story. So every time I let out a new chapter, it may be a good idea to re-read the story.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Inscribson

* * *

-Sev's thoughts-

#Nev's thoughts#

(Inscribson's thoughts)

Each day for a month, Inscribson looked up when the owl post came in. Each day for the past month, she didn't get a single owl. A month ago, she had sent an owl to her mother telling about how the sorting had gone. She was beginning to loose hope in her mother's love.

After all, she was already disillusioned from having needed to teach herself shield spells the second week of school; she already knew enough to pass the Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Arithmancy O.W.L.s. And her own house wasn't accepting her, leaving her to her own devices whenever sixth-year Gryffindors decided to try moving target practice.

She was hated by the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff for being Slytherin, and Slytherin and Ravenclaw for not being Ravenclaw.

Forget having a well-organized mind, being smarter than half the Hogwarts population, having the trans-generational Marauder's Map and her godfather's invisibility cloak: If it hadn't been for Henry, and some protection from their Head of House, she knew she would have gone insane. Truly, honestly, literally, authentically, clinically, beyond-a-doubt bonkers.

A weight on her shoulder had her spinning as far around as she could on the bench, wand raised and her shields half-up in less than a second. But...there was no one there. Sighing, she turned back to her food. To stare right into the eyes of the most beautiful fluffy kitten, fur pure white except a black spot on its left forepaw.

"Gaaaah!"

#Gaaaah!#

"It talks!"

#It understands!#

"How - ?"

#Just think it to me. The first-year with glasses is staring.#

Inscribson glared at the offending boy, who quickly turned back to his food, muttering something about Snape and whelps.

(Think to you like this?)

#Yes.#

(What's your name?)

#Nevermore. My...person...is a bit Dark.#

(Your person's a professor.)

#You must be Ms. Inscribson Granger. I've been told a good many things about your inquisitiveness.#

(Already? I've only been here a month! And who is your person?)

#Perhaps I will tell you later. Right now, you need to get to class.#

(Oh NO! You're right! I have potions in...)

"_TWO MINUTES!"_

In the Great Hall, only one pair of eyes even paid attention to Inscribson Snape and the feline on her shoulder.

* * *

Severus Snape had finished his breakfast and was reading the Daily Prophet when he felt a sharp tug in his mind. He looked straight away for the signature white fur of his familiar. Not seeing Nevermore at the staff table, he started looking for her at the student tables. It took him a moment, but he found the kitten, sitting on the young Ms. Granger's shoulder. She seemed to be laughing, then froze for a second before standing up and shouting _"TWO MINUTES!"_

Severus got up immediately and went over to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, may I talk to you for a moment in private?"

"Of course, Severus. Lead the way."

Severus led the Headmaster into the side room that had been used for so many things over the years.

"Doubtless you heard Ms. Granger's antics a moment ago. Did you notice anything peculiar about it?"

"She had your kitten on her shoulder, Severus." Albus smiled slightly. "It seemed that she had told the girl something."

"Indeed, Headmaster. And just how do you think that Nevermore could have spoken to her? I rather believe Ms. Granger is a bit young for me."

"I haven't the slightest idea." The twinkle in Albus' eyes gave him away. "Perhaps you should talk to Ms. Granger about it after class."

"Class? Oh, yes, first-year Potions. It starts, (he checked his pocket watch) Five _minutes_ ago!"

And, cloak bellowing behind as was his trademark, Severus Snape left Albus Dumbledore chuckling in the side room that had seen so much use over the years.

* * *

Potions _could_ have become a disaster, if Severus Snape had let it. As it was, he had enough control over his class to not have them hex his familiar (although no one made the connection between the annoyed expressions on the feline's and human's faces), but Inscribson was sent to the hospital wing, where she had to stay for the rest of the day.

Her teachers told her not to worry about homework, as she was already getting more than one hundred percent in all of her classes! But she wasn't too bored, staying in the hospital wing all day, as she had Nevermore to talk to while the after-effects of the twenty-seven hexes wore off.

But it wasn't until the end of the day that she found out whose familiar Nevermore was.

Severus Snape had come into the hospital wing, wincing as he passed through the doors into his least favorite part of Hogwarts. Finding the bed with the first-year in question, he stalked over, and handed Inscribson a book.

"The Headmaster and I feel that your potion making skills are very much above average, and he has agreed to let me give you private lessons in Potions after school hours and in the weekends. We will start very soon. This book contains several potions, which we will be working on. I want you to study it before tomorrow afternoon."

Inscribson looked at the cover. _Most Potent Potions Volume II: A Deeper Study._ She nodded, and then showed the book to the kitten on her shoulder.

(This looks good. But where is Volume I?)

#I believe that the Professor has it in his private collection.#

(And what would you know about Professor Snape's private collection, Nevermore?)

The kitten fidgeted, and Inscribson smiled, and then looked back at her father who, unbeknownst to her, had been listening to the conversation with amazement.

"Sir, do you want Nevermore back? I would understand if you do, although I will certainly miss her comments about Noreen Malfoy."

"I would be glad to take Nevermore, Ms. Granger. Thank you for keeping an eye on her today." Here the kitten meowed indignantly, causing Inscribson to chuckle.

"Its okay, Professor. Could I still talk to her sometimes?" Snape didn't get a chance to answer, as his familiar cut him off.

#Of course you may! All you have to do is think to me and I'll leave Severus to talk to you. You know, he's rather boring sometimes...#

- That is enough, Nevermore. We have to leave now so that Ms. Granger can rest before tomorrow. -

Inscribson's eyes widened as she heard the mirth of her father's voice in her head.

"Ms. Granger, would you kindly choose a potion to begin this weekend as well?"

"Alright, Professor. Thank you."

"I will see you in the common room, then."

And with that, Inscribson's dad walked out of the hospital wing, with his familiar in his arms, and leaving a first-year deeply immersed in an old, dusty book.

* * *

Can you see that little button? It means that I won't write anymore until you review. Kewpies for giving me new plot ideas, and for editing. If you find errors of any sort in here, _tell me_! Then we can work out a plan, and I can fix the plotholes. 


	5. Responses

I don't own any of the original characters. I do, however, own the typos, Henry, Inscribson, and any other children coming from the weird pairs I've cooked up.

And, I was told if I didn't keep writing this, my life would be forfeit.

Oh, and I update all of the time, only mostly not new chapters, but changes in the story. So every time I let out a new chapter, it may be a good idea to re-read the story.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Inscribson

* * *

Dear Ms. Granger,

Before I write other business, let me say that although your daughter was hit by twenty-seven hexes and curses of varying strength this morning, she would have been hit by many more had she not had very strong shields. I commend you for teaching such skills to your daughter at an early age.

But that is not why I am writing, at least, not all of it.

Your daughter is a _very_ skilled child, and would be able to sit every standard O.W.L this year if she wanted to, and receive at least an E in all of them. However, she doesn't, for which I am thankful. The bullying would be _intolerable_ for her...But she does need training, _now_, to hone her skills. A child as gifted as her is rare in the Wizarding world, and even eleven years after the fall of the Dark Lord, we still will need what abilities those such as she can give.

As you may or may not know, Albus has hired another potions professor, one who will teach through the O.W.L. year, leaving me the N.E.W.T preparation classes. I find this very good timing, as I would like to take your daughter as my Sorcerer's Apprentice. I know that this tradition has not been brought into play for more than two and a half centuries, but Inscribson is, as I said, a _very_ talented child.

The Headmaster has already given me permission. However, despite the traditions of the apprentice system, I _would_ prefer to have your permission as well. She would be under my protection until she is of age, or until I can teach her nothing more, whichever comes first.

I would be training her in Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Numerology, and Astrology, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, History of Magic and Divination, as well as differing forms of Warcraft. We would also be studying different languages used by magical and non-magical peoples.

She would have her own private quarters adjacent to mine. She will not come home for the summer until the summer she is to turn eighteen, instead spending her time training. She is to have no interaction with the outside world until then.

I hope you will trust the Headmaster's judgment, if not mine, about the discipline in which she will be raised. Most all of it was patterned by Merlin himself, although I happen to agree with it. Discipline will get her mind used to working every day, and will significantly accelerate her training.

Please send me your response as soon as possible.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Professor Severus Snape, Slytherin Head of House, Potions Master, First Class, Order of Merlin, First Class

* * *

Dear Professor Snape,

I give you my permission, and my blessing, to take my daughter as your apprentice on the following conditions.

You will send me letters with her progress once a week.

You will not start her on any potions that are considered illegal by the Auror guidelines until she is thirteen. Her birthday is on August 1.

You will send her to either Poppy or me when she starts puberty.

She will be allowed a room, and supplies, to brew potions of her choice.

I know that Inscribson is a very gifted girl, and gets it from not only my side, but her father as well. I only wish she could have had the chance to know her father as a child. Please send her my love, and tell her that I am not disappointed in her, just very busy with work. After eleven years, you'd think that the problems of Voldemort would be gone...

And neither her adoptive uncles nor I taught her any shield spells.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Hermione Granger, Ministress of Magic, Order of Merlin, First Class

* * *

Hey, Scrib,

Guess what I found out about my favorite Goddaughter? She is going to be accepted as the apprentice to your mother's and my old Potions Professor, Unofficial Auror, and my old Head of House. Snape! Good job, Scrib. You've really done well. And you've only been there for a month or so.

Don't worry about your mother. She's just busy, with her Ministry duties and all. She loves you quite a bit, and has no qualms against your House whatsoever. In fact, she said that your dad's full Slytherin side would have outdone her early Gryffindor, as she was already split between it and Ravenclaw. After all, we noticed that in our sixth year, when she was resorted into Ravenclaw!

And, Scrib, even though I started in Gryffindor too, I was resorted into Slytherin. They're not so different, no matter what the hype about them is. They stick by their friends, hex anyone who messes with them, and do whatever they can to stay in the game. The only thing is Slytherins don't always use tactics that are out in the open, and are considered sneaky when they are discovered.

Uncle Ron and I are somewhere in the States, but I can't tell you where. He sent your Mum the training guide for Cryptians – the American Aurors – to send to you when you turn twelve.

And don't you remember Henry Longbottom? His mom was a year under us, and is one of your Aunts.

I'll send you tons of letters.

Your loving Godfather

Harry

* * *

Dear Henry,

I know you must be worried about the lack of response from your father and me. And, to answer one of your first questions, you should remember Inscribson Granger. We've seen her often at family reunions. Her mother was a year ahead of me in school, and went to school with some of the Uncles - the Twins and Percy-and your father. The Aunts say hello, too. The rest of the Uncles – Harry, Hagrid, Bill, and Charlie - miss you, as do your father and I.

Oh, and watch out for the Twins. They've just started a new Hogwarts House related line. You may want to watch out for anything they send, and open it in private.

You know how they love their limericks.

Your loving mother,

Momma Gin

* * *

Can you see that little button? It means that I won't write anymore until you review. Kewpies for giving me new plot ideas, and for editing. If you find errors of any sort in here, _tell me_! Then we can work out a plan, and I can fix the plotholes.


	6. Inscribson Ann Granger Snape

I don't own any of the original characters. I do, however, own the typos, Henry, Inscribson, and any other children coming from the weird pairs I've cooked up.

And, I was told if I didn't keep writing this, my life would be forfeit.

Oh, and I update all of the time, only mostly not new chapters, but changes in the story. So every time I let out a new chapter, it may be a good idea to re-read the story.

Yours in Magical Fellowship,

Inscribson

* * *

-Sev's thoughts-

#Nev's thoughts#

(Inscribson's thoughts)

* * *

"Enter."

"Good afternoon, professor. You told me to come here after classes were over?"

"Yes, for private lessons. The first of which will be History of Magic."

"Sir?"

"I'll explain it if you still need it after the lesson. How much do you know about Merlin's early life?"

"Not much, sir."

"That is to be expected. He was a very gifted child, although he gave the impression of being just another introverted young orphan."

"I never knew that he was an orphan, sir."

"It was kept secret, hidden by the Ministry. But back to our story." He glared mildly at her to ensure silence. "Merlin was an orphan. He had an uncanny knack with things...by the time he was nine, he was known as a healer, a potions brewer, and a maker of charms, with the ability to tell a man's intentions and more wisdom than most three times his age. At eleven, he was tested for magic – a process much different from now. Back then, students were given a variety of seemingly impossible tasks, meant to frustrate them into using magic, if they had any. Most children who had magic took months in each task to reach that point. Merlin took one day for all of them."

"What tasks did he do, professor?"

"He was guided out a far ways into the ocean, in a little craft, and then bound. His oars were taken, and he was told to get to land. He was found on the shore, still bound, by the time his testers had made their way back. It was called Shifting.

"He was taken then to a spring and told to boil water. He was given everything he needed, except a container in which to put the water. Using his will, he levitated the water over the flame until it started to steam, then boil. That was the start of Magecraft.

"He was given a feather and a twig, and told to make a bed for himself with it. He followed their instructions quite literally, and that was the beginning of Transfiguration.

"He was blindfolded and a mirror was put in front of him. He was told to show the face of the man who would take him as an apprentice. Here he showed the face of the greatest wizard of his time, whom he later didn't recognize when they met. That was the start of Scrying.

"He then was taken to a mountain, and given any writing materials he needed, and told to meditate on his Aestraus - his _name._ When he did, and wrote it down, and said it to himself, the parchment he wrote upon turned into a cat, and became his familiar."

#And I am the twenty-seventh descendant of Merlin's familiar, Erraster.#

"Professor, why are you telling me this?"

"I tell you because the blood of Merlin runs in your veins, through your mother."

"But all of his children -"

"Died? Not true. His children were _thought_ to have died in the purges of his time, until very recently, when testing was done to magical artifacts. Even now, there are descendents of Merlin in both the Wizarding and Muggle world. I am one, your mother was one, and you are, through her."

Inscribson's thoughts were a little too loud. (Not just through her.)

#What do you mean, child?#

(Nothing! I just...)

But it was too late. Nevermore searched her mind quickly, before she could try and raise shields.

#Oh dear...He won't take this well at all. Severus?#

- Ah, you were having a private conversation. I wondered why both of your eyes glazed over... -

#Severus, there's something you need to know about Inscribson.#

(Nev', don't, please!)

-What is it, Nevermore?-

#It's not just through her mother's side that she's related to Merlin. It's through her father's as well.#

- What? How? The descendants have been recorded carefully. Who is Ms. Granger's father? -

"My n-name," Inscribson cleared her throat, gathering courage. "M-my name is Ins-Inscribson S-sn-sn-"

#Snape.#

* * *

Snape slowly leaned back in his chair as he looked at Inscribson, steepling his fingers. Inscribson _Snape_. He was a father. He opened a private conversation with his familiar to be certain.

- Are you sure, Nevermore? -

#She is sure.#

"Ms... Inscribson, I believe that, in order for us to be certain about this, we need a set of potions."

"Do you mean the Hepta Genicta?" Snape nodded, slipping into the much easier teacher mode.

"Yes. Since you already seem to know of these, explain. Genic Un."

"It needs two drops of blood from one person. It tells the children of a person."

A nod. "Genic Deux."

"Two drops of blood from one person. It tells their mother."

"Good. Genic Trios."

"Two drops of one person. It tells their father."

Another nod. "Genic Quad."

"Two drops of one person. It tells the conditions of the mother; sobriety, health, occupation, age, and if the mother consented."

"Very good. Genic Quint."

"Two drops of one person. It tells the conditions of the father; sobriety, health, occupation, age, and if the father consented."

"Genic Sicex."

"It needs two drops of blood from one person. It tells if the parents were made to be together, and what traits they have passed on."

"Genic Septus."

"One drop from two people. It tells how close they are related."

"Very good, Ms. Inscribson. Ten points to Slytherin. We will begin brewing tomorrow after breakfast. Wear simple robes that you don't mind getting potion-spattered, and bring _Most Potent Potions Volume II._ You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you tomorrow. Night, 'Nev."

#Goodnight, child. All may yet be very well.#

* * *

#So, you have a daughter.#

- We're not sure, Nevermore. -

#You may not be, but she is. Ad you don't have any memories of a night of celebrating the Dark Lord's defeat, twelve years ago.#

- I was dead drunk! Albus or Minerva helped me to my quarters, where I slept of the firewhisky. I wouldn't have been able to do... that...through the drink. End of story. -

#I think not! When I came in the next morning, you were naked, exhausted, and sleeping in a bed that two had been using. There is every chance that was when the girl's mother got pregnant.#

- Hermione. I can't imagine that I would...she was only a 7th year, for heaven's sake! I'm almost 20 years her elder. -

#I think we need to talk to Albus about this.#

- And tell him what? That I rapped and impregnated the student I was to protect with my very life? -

#Why are you so sure it was rape, Severus. You think too little of yourself. True, she probably was drunk, but she still could have hexed the skin off your drunken ass before you could blink. You won't know until you brew the Hepta Genicta. Meanwhile, 'Sev, you need to get some sleep.#

- 'Sev? I think I like that. -

#Get some sleep, you silly human.#

* * *

Can you see that little button? It means that I won't write anymore until you review. Kewpies for giving me new plot ideas, and for editing. If you find errors of any sort in here, _tell me_! Then we can work out a plan, and I can fix the plotholes. 


End file.
